Claimed And Marked By Her Stepbrother Mates novel Chapter 463

Chapter 463: 463-She Is My Daughter!

Ursula:

"Why didn’t you believe my daughter?" I asked McQuoid, holding back the storm that had been building inside me.

I had enough. I stayed quiet, followed all the rules, only to find out that my daughter had been tortured over and over again.

"Ursula, it’s not about trusting her words. I can’t do anything in this case without evidence. The council will ask for proof. There’s no DNA test, no witness, no one, and nothing to support her claims. How can you expect us to file a complaint and win? They will tear Helanie and her character apart in this case," he argued, pacing from one corner of the room to the other.

I couldn’t sit in front of him and keep my emotions in check. I jumped up and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Once in front of the mirror, with my hands on the sink, I broke down.

"I can’t take it anymore," I cried out, tightening my grip on the basin.

My reflection looked terrifying.

"Our daughter went through so much—and we—" my wolf whimpered with the same pain.

"And we thought we were doing everything right," I whispered.

"What are you doing?" she asked when she noticed me grabbing the makeup.

"I have to go pay someone a visit," I said, aggressively putting on red lipstick.

"What? You think I shouldn’t go?" I stopped briefly to ask. Not that I would change my mind. I was going to do it no matter what.

After getting ready, I checked my phone for the details. I knew what I was doing would get me in trouble, but I needed to do it.

There was no "my life" for me anymore.

I knew Lord McQuoid would be busy at this time. He was holding a meeting with his sons to talk about recent matters—ones that revolved around my daughter.

I couldn’t rely on these men anymore.

Thankfully, Darcy had left with her two children, who I didn’t even want to see around anymore. Her little son was sick, yet this woman was still going around causing problems in other people’s lives. Talk about being a witch.

"Just drive straight—I’ll give you directions," I told the driver, not giving him the exact location.

"Now stop here." After a few minutes, I made him pull over. When he did, I got out of the car and gestured for him to step out.

"You wait for me here. I’ll be back in a while," I informed him, and he nodded, walking toward the woods—probably to take a run until I returned.

Now, I sat behind the wheel, my eyes on the road, determination burning in my gaze.